


Side With the Seeds

by pepperlandgirl4



Category: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 20:03:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8258951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperlandgirl4/pseuds/pepperlandgirl4
Summary: Set about a month or two after the NWA's reign of terror, Nicholas Angel plants bodies and buries seeds.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Embracing the situation_  
>  Is our only chance to be free  
> I’ll side with you  
> If you side with me --"Side With the Seeds" Wilco

_It’ll take time to heal._

That’s what Nicholas Angel had told Danny in the hospital.

It would take time to rebuild the village.

It would take time to rebuild the station. 

It would take time to excavate the castle. 

They just needed time. 

The sun beat down on the back of Nicholas’ neck. It was too hot for that time of year. It should have been overcast, the temperature mild, but there was nothing shielding him from the sun. In sharp contrast, the soil around his fingers was cool and damp, rich against his skin. Dirt wedged beneath his fingernails and stained his palms and wrists. 

It felt good to be working in the dirt. It felt good to be doing something, anything, that might be useful. It felt good to worry about weeds, and proper pH balances, and bugs. Somebody had hung up wind chimes on a nearby grave, and the softest sound of bells drifted through the cemetery. He’d been listening to the chimes for nearly a month now, and he kept meaning to investigate, find out where they were, who they belonged to. Maybe buy his own chimes, but he never got around to it. 

Tending the plants took most of his free time. There and in his own garden. Not that he had a great deal of free time. Two or three hours a week were really all he could spare. He had so much to do. So much to oversee. 

The alarm on his watch sounded, warning him that he only had twenty minutes to finish what he was doing, clean up, change his shirt, and get to the church. The normal Sunday services had been temporarily suspended to make room for the much more pressing matter of funerals and wakes and memorial services. 

Nicholas straightened and wiped his forearm across his brow, catching some of the sweat before it could roll into his eyes. There were already people drifting into the church, a few sending furtive glances up to the roof. It was fixed now. It had been fixed first thing, but it made people nervous. They gamely walked through their village, lived their normal lives, but they were jumpy now. Scared of something. Scared of him, some of them. 

He put his trowel and his tiny shovel, hoe, and rake in the bucket. The items laid on the bottom, with seeds and weed killer, and his gloves. He never wore his gloves, and now he had blisters on his thumbs and forefingers, but they didn’t bother him so much. They seemed to bother Danny, for some reason, but he stopped nagging Nicholas about gloves weeks earlier, and now Nicholas rarely gave them a second thought. 

A clean shirt was waiting for him in the boot of his car. He hadn’t counted on the weather being so unseasonably hot, and now he knew he needed to shower. But there was no time. The service would begin in ten minutes, and he needed to be there. 

Nicholas changed in the rest room, taking the time to splash his face with cold water and run his wet fingers through his short hair. He scrubbed his hands and arms thoroughly, but he still couldn’t quite get the black soil from beneath his fingernails. It clung to his cuticles, too, and filled in the little cracks in his skin. Once he was clean, he pulled on a fresh white shirt. His fingers felt a little thick, a little uncooperative as he slowly buttoned it. It was an automatic and natural reaction to the task in front of him. After two months, he should have been used to it, but he wasn’t. 

He’d never get accustomed to it, but he doubted that was a bad thing. 

There were only ten people in the church when he emerged from the restroom, his bag slung over his shoulder. They were all sitting in the front. He pulled on his blue jacket—though it was much too hot for that and he knew it—and hid his bag in the corner, out of sight. Then he took his place in the back, near the door, holding his hands in front of him. 

The victims with identities always attracted a larger crowd. Whoever was resting in the urn at the front of the church hadn’t been named. Usually, Nicholas wouldn’t allow the remains to be released until they had something, _anything_ , but sometimes, there just wasn’t enough. This had been an unidentified female, somewhere between eighteen and twenty-four. The coroner’s report indicated she had given birth at least once. Her son or daughter could be one of the children Nicholas saw every day on the streets of the village. 

But they couldn’t make a positive identification with dental records. And he knew they could have reconstructed the face, created a composite image, and just posted the picture around town until somebody stepped up with information, but there were two obstacles. First, it was expensive and time-consuming. An expense that could be justified if they were trying to find a suspect, but they didn’t need one more ID for one more murder charge against the members of the NWA. The second obstacle was less concrete, harder to identify. 

The people in Sandford simply did not want to cooperate, or participate, more than they had to. Not because they wanted to go back to the way things were before. Not because they were cold-hearted. In fact, it was the opposite of that. The villagers were exhausted, mentally and emotionally drained. 

It would take some time to heal. 

So this corpse, this female, this mother had been quietly cremated and put on the schedule at the church. Nicholas kept a copy of the schedule. He had only missed one memorial service. The first one they held, for Arthur Webley, a week after his daughter buried him. Danny had been in the hospital at the time, and Nicholas had refused to leave his side, so he missed the old farmer’s service. 

But he didn’t miss the next one. Or the two after that. They had been for the boys he had arrested on his first night in Sandford. Their families had been inconsolable, both mothers and fathers weeping openly. Nicholas hadn’t even tried to comfort them, and something hot and thick wrapped itself around his heart and lungs until he could barely breathe, and he wondered if maybe he didn’t need to check himself into the hospital again. 

It turned out, their parents had filed missing persons reports. They should have been given to Nicholas. Frank filed them away, and they would have never seen the light of day again, except their families kept copies of the reports. 

All of them had been just shy of eighteen. All of them had died from a sharp blow to the head. There were signs that one of them took three blows before he stopped struggling. 

The service for the nameless woman was one of the shorter ones, at just over thirty minutes. Nicholas stood unmoving, noting every detail. By the time it was finished, he felt exhausted. He slipped out the door before the final note from the organ stopped echoing through the church. 

“Hey. Who was it today?” 

Danny stood on the lawn, smiling slightly, holding his hat in his hands.

“We don’t know.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

Nicholas shrugged. “I am, too. What are you doing out here?” 

“Looking for you. Doris said you were here at the church, so I didn’t want to use the radio.” 

“What’s going on?” Nicholas was instantly alert. “Is there an emergency?” 

“No, no, nothing like that,” Danny assured him. “But somebody’s looking for you at the castle.” 

They had temporarily moved operations to the castle. It made the most sense, since they needed a place to work, and most of what they were doing these days involved excavating the castle, and identifying remains. Nobody especially liked the solution. The Andies were particularly vocal about their disgust. 

“Who?” Nicholas pulled his hat on, low over his eyes. He didn’t miss the way Danny mimicked him with his own cap. 

“She said her name was Charlotte. I tried to talk to her, but she insisted she’d only talk to you. So here I am.” 

Nicholas walked while Danny talked, and he paused when he reached the car, his hand resting on the door handle. “What are you doing anyway? You’re supposed to be resting.” 

“I’m not tired.” 

“The doctor said you were supposed to stay off your feet, not wander around the village.” 

“I didn’t wander around the village, did I? Doris dropped me off here at the church on her way home, and you’re taking me back to the castle. So, no wandering.” 

“Still, I expect you to take tomorrow off,” Nicholas said as he settled into the car. 

“I don’t want to. It’s boring. I’ve got nothing to do all day.” 

“I just brought a bunch of new movies over to you yesterday,” Nicholas pointed out, putting the car into gear. From the corner of his eye, he saw Danny wince as he buckled his safety belt. “I know you haven’t seen them already.” 

“I haven’t, but it’s no fun watching movies by myself.” 

Nicholas sighed softly. He knew it wasn’t any fun for Danny to be alone while he recuperated. He didn’t like leaving Danny to his own devises. But he couldn’t allow Danny to come back to work full time. Not until the doctor gave the okay. Nicholas couldn’t risk Danny getting ill, or injured, or anything else. 

“I’ll take you home after I meet with this Charlotte.” 

“It might be awhile. She looked….” 

“She looked what?” Nicholas prompted. 

“Serious, I guess. How was the service?” 

“It was nice.” 

“I saw the schedule on your desk. Becky Thompson’s brother’s wife’s sister’s boy is going to be next week. I think I’ll go.” 

Nicholas nodded. He had no idea why Danny needed to go to the service for Becky Thompson’s brother’s wife’s sister’s boy, but he wouldn’t argue with him. “I’ll pick you up for it, then.”   
Nicholas parked the car in closest spot to the door. He didn’t walk as quickly as he could have, reining in his curiosity so Danny could keep up with him. 

It would take some time for everybody to be whole, again. 

The woman waiting in his make-shift office was tall. Nicholas noted that first because she was standing near his desk instead of sitting. She was twisting her purse’s strap between her fingers nervously, absently. Her hair was cut in a short bob around the sharp angles of her face, but it was mussed, like when she wasn’t gripping her purse, she was running her fingers through her hair. Her smart pantsuit was wrinkled. Nicholas imagined she had taken the train from somewhere and didn’t take the time to freshen up or change before finding his office. And she looked very, very serious. 

“Inspector Angel?” 

“Yes.” He removed his hat and politely held out his hand. “How can I help you?”

“Inspector Angel, my name is Charlotte Peoples. I’m…well, I’m hoping you can help me. I don’t really know who else to turn to, and then when I heard what was going on up here…Well, I had to try. I suppose I should have called, but then I might have lost my nerve. Sometimes it’s better not to know, I think.”

“If you’d have a seat, I’ll do my best.” 

Danny still hovered in the doorway. Either Ms. Peoples didn’t notice, or she didn’t care. But she didn’t even spare him a second glance as she sat in the chair beside Nicholas’ desk. 

“Did I come at a bad time? I wasn’t sure, since it’s Sunday and all. But I couldn’t leave Liverpool until Friday after work, and it took so long to get here, and I got a bit lost yesterday.” 

“No, it’s not a bad time at all. Sergeant Butterman, can you get Ms. Peoples a drink?” 

“I’m not really thirsty.” 

“Sure,” Danny said, as though he didn’t hear her. Nicholas watched him for a moment, noting the stiff, slow way he moved. He wished Danny would just give himself the time he needed. 

“Well, then, Ms. Peoples, what can I help you with?” 

“I…It’s hard to know where to begin. I saw you on the news. It seems like every week there’s more information about Sandford in the newspapers. About the…about the bodies being removed. Where were they buried, by the way?” 

“Here. I mean, not right here. On the other side of the castle. Our situation here is only temporary.” 

“Ahh. Well, I’ve been following the story because…well, I have reason to believe my family is among the missing.” 

“Excuse me? Your family?” 

She nodded. 

“Your entire family?” 

“Yes. My mother, my father, my sister, her son, and my husband. You see, I was…well, I wasn’t with them when they went on holiday. My mother wanted to see the gardens here. She read about it in some magazine or other. I spoke to my sister the night they arrived in Sandford. They were staying at The Swan. And well, that was the last I heard of her.” 

Nicholas had reached for his notebook while she was talking, and immediately began scribbling. Five missing persons. Sandford was their last known location. “How long ago was this?” 

“It was about six years ago. I don’t know if that would put them in the right time frame…” 

Nicholas glanced up, noting the faint trace of hope on her face. “It would, actually. The murders date back to 1993.” 

“Oh.” 

“Did you report them as missing?” 

“Yes. The trail went cold as soon as they reached Sandford. I actually…I spoke to Inspector Butterman when it happened and…” Her voice trailed away as Danny set a bottle of water in front of her. 

“And?” 

She glanced up to Danny, clearly nervous. “Well, he just…told me he would keep an eye out for them. That he would do everything he could to find them again.” 

Nicholas nodded, his gut twisting. It was hard enough to keep the trust between the service and civilians without the specter of Frank Butterman and his insanity hanging over them. 

“Yes, I understand.” 

“I brought photos.”

Nicholas held out his hand to accept her envelope. The pictures wouldn’t be any use to him, of course. The bodies, if they were down there, would be so far decomposed, they would need something more than photos. “Thank you. Do you have any thing else? Medical records? Dental records?” 

“Yes…I brought my husband’s records, and some stuff on my parents. I don’t have access to any of my sister’s or nephew’s records.” She fished through her bag and handed him another envelope. “I just put everything in there that I had. I didn’t know what would be useful.” 

“Thank you. That’ll be a great help to us.” 

Charlotte looked over her shoulder, eyeing Danny again. Danny’s face was pale, and Nicholas didn’t think it was from the pain of being out of bed and moving around too soon. He didn’t understand why she was so anxious about Danny. He was hardly a threatening presence. Maybe she recognized him from the last time she visited Sandford looking for help? Maybe, in her mind, Danny was already guilty by association. 

“I…how long do you think it will take?” 

Nicholas studied her for a long moment before he answered. “I don’t know, Ms. Peoples. Honestly, there are…well, there’s an exceptional number of bodies that have been excavated, and still more waiting.” 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Nicholas hesitated. There might have been something, but he didn’t know if she’d be willing to do it. She must have seen the answer in his eyes, because she leaned forward. 

“Inspector Angel, I’ve come to terms with the fact they’re not coming home. It’s been six years, and I’ve…well, I’ve had the chance to grieve. Now, I’ve just got to honor them, if I can. Please, don’t worry about sparing my feelings. I’m willing to do anything it takes.” 

Nicholas nodded and offered an understanding smile. He could see she meant every word, could see the strength in her eyes. “I suppose there is one thing. I’m sure if you’ve been following the story, you’ve heard their…motivation for what they did.” 

Charlotte inclined her head. “Yes, they wanted the perfect village. Inspector Butterman went crazy when his wife died.” 

Nicholas looked to Danny again. His face was still pale, but otherwise, he didn’t have any visual reaction to what Charlotte said. 

“Yes. The people they targeted often were, in their view, a public nuisance. Or blatantly broke the law, and it didn’t matter how small the offense. If there are no offenders, there’s no crime.” 

“You want me to….provide a motive?” 

“Yes,” Nicholas said gently. “I know this can’t be easy for you, but if you can think of any habits your family had…or anything like that, we might be able to figure out if they would be targeted.” 

“How?” She looked at Danny again. “How would you do that? Would they tell you? How would you know?” 

Nicholas opened his mouth to answer, but Danny stepped forward. “We’ve created psychological profiles to explain and predict their behavior.” 

“Oh. I can…I can probably have something for you tomorrow. Is that okay?” 

“Yes. Please, work on this in your own time. We’ll understand if it takes you longer than a day.” 

Charlotte moved to stand and Nicholas followed suit. “Thank you, Inspector Angel. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” 

Nicholas nodded in acknowledgment. It was just his job, but it was more than that to her. “Are you staying here?” 

“Yes. There’s a hotel at the edge of the village…Will you be in tomorrow?” 

“Seven sharp.” 

Charlotte nodded, and then ducked her head and hurried out of the office, as if she was afraid of staying in that place for a moment longer than she absolutely had to. 

“How did you know about the psychological profiles?” Nicholas asked softly, once they were alone. 

“Cartwright brought it to me. Said I might want something interesting to read while I was stuck in the hospital.” 

“Were they?”

“Interesting?”

“Yeah.” 

Danny shrugged. “I suppose so. It helps that maybe there’s an explanation.” 

“They’re not explanations,” Nicholas said gently. “Just descriptions.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He stepped back, leaning against the door frame. Nicholas knew he wouldn’t complain, but he could see the strain in Danny’s eyes. 

“Why don’t I take you home now?” 

“I don’t mind waiting, if you want to do some work.” 

“No. I told you we’d watch some movies tonight, didn’t I?” 

Danny watched him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I guess you did. Can we go to your cottage instead?” 

Nicholas tilted his head. “Yeah. Why?” 

“Just feel like it,” Danny said, with a shrug. 

And that was good enough for Nicholas. He grabbed his keys again and herded Danny out to the car.


	2. Chapter 2

_It’ll take some time to make it right._

That’s what Nicholas had said to Danny when he first broke ground in the garden of his new cottage. 

It would take some time to till the ground. 

It would take some time to plant the seeds. 

It would take some time to make it grow. 

 

“I like to watch you garden,” Danny said. The words surprised Nicholas. Danny had been unusually silent after they got back from the castle, settling in a lawn chair Nicholas had bought for that purpose. He had made an off-hand comment about Leslie Tiller’s shop earlier, and immediately looked away, almost visibly trying to pull the words back. Nicholas had assured him it was fine. But the look in Danny’s eyes said it wasn’t fine. 

Nicholas didn’t look up from the patch of ground he was working on. “Why? It’s not nearly as interesting as Supercop.” 

“Robocop.” 

“What?” 

“That’s what we watched last night.” 

“Oh. Right. Well, it’s not as interesting as Robocop.” 

“Did you like Robocop?” 

The soil was different in his own garden. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because it hadn’t already been overturned once. The sun felt different now, too. Not so hot on his back, though he could still feel the trickles of sweat down his arms and neck. 

“Yeah, sure.” He sat back on his heels and glanced over to Danny. He was sucking the melted ice cream from the bottom of a cone, and he looked all right. “Why do you like to watch me garden?” 

“I don’t know. You look happy, I suppose.” 

Nicholas wiped the back of his arm over his brow. “Oh.” 

“You’ve got…” He pointed to his forehead. “A bit of dirt.” 

Nicholas wiped his arm over his skin again. “Did I get it?” 

Danny smiled. “No. You made it worse.” 

Nicholas frowned and pulled the hem of shirt to his face. “How ‘bout now?” 

“You look like you’ve been playing in the dirt.” 

Nicholas returned his grin. “I have been playing in the dirt. Why don’t you lend me a hand?” 

A part of him expected Danny to decline, but he joined him in the damp grass, unmindful of the new stains on his knees. “What are we doing, exactly?” 

“Just pulling the weeds out. If we leave them unchecked, they’ll take over the garden and kill everything else.” 

Danny’s face was set in a thoughtful frown. “How do you know which one is the weed? It all looks the same to me.” 

Nicholas leaned forward, his arm brushing against Danny’s. “Look, see the thinner plants, like this? These are the weeds. I haven’t done this for a few weeks, so there’s a lot to do. Just grab it close to the bottom like this,” he wrapped his fingers around the weeds, “and pull.” 

Danny nodded. “Got it.” He zeroed in on a group of thin stalks and tugged them free from the dirt, then held them up triumphantly. “Like this?” 

“Like that. Do you want a pair of gloves?” 

“Nah, I’m alright.” 

“Alright.” 

They worked side by side for several silent minutes, rhythmically pulling weeds from deep in the soil. Occasional, a plant or two would resist, and Nicholas would watch Danny’s face twist in annoyance before he pulled them out with a grunt. 

“Have you talked to that lady again? The one from Liverpool?” 

“Ms. Peoples? Yes. I spoke to her last night.” 

“What did she say?” 

Nicholas didn’t answer immediately. He moved further to the left, to an unweeded plot. Danny followed without speaking, settling beside him once again. It was hard to answer the question. Charlotte Peoples had dutifully compiled a list of sins, possible sins, and characteristics. Her lips had been thin, her dark eyes downcast. 

“Lots of things. I don’t know if she actually gave us anything to work with. I told her…I told her maybe she should go home and I’d call her as soon as I found anything.” 

“What did she say?” 

“She said she wasn’t leaving.” 

“She was here before, you know.” 

“I know, she told me.”

“No, I mean, before that. I saw her with her family.” 

Nicholas straightened. “Why didn’t you mention that before?” 

“Well, I wasn’t sure at first, was I? I thought I recognized her, but when I saw the pictures of her family, I remembered.” 

“You remembered her from seven years ago?”

“I remember her nephew. He was only a few years younger than me. I showed him the model village.” 

Nicholas sat back on his heels again. “What else do you remember?” 

“Nothing, really. They stayed at the Swan for about a week, and then they left.” 

“They left? How do you know?” 

“Because I saw them drive out of town.” 

Nicholas stared at him, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. It never occurred to him to doubt Danny. If Danny claimed he saw Charlotte and her family in Sandford, then he probably did. 

“So why did she lie to me?” 

Danny shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I should go speak to her.” 

“Maybe she’s just confused,” Danny suggested. 

Nicholas absently touched his lips with his fingers, coating them in dirt. He sputtered, spitting the dirt out of his mouth. Danny laughed and reached over to wipe the soil away from his face, forgetting that his own fingers were filthy. Nicholas jerked away, laughing, and brushed the back of his hand over his lips.

“Maybe we should go wash up.” 

“What about the weeds? 

“I think we’ve got some other work to do.” 

#

“You want us to what?” Cartwright asked. 

“Find out more information about this Charlotte Peoples.” 

“Why the fuck would we want to do that?” 

“Because I’m telling you to.” 

“We’ve got actual work to do around here,” Wainwright said, gesturing to their desks. They did have other work to do. Work that technically wasn’t part of their job description, but everybody had to pitch in now. “We still have a fuckload of paperwork to do.” 

“Just run a background check. Find out what you can about her.” 

“Think you can tell us what we’re looking for? Is she some sort of psychopath or something?” 

“She’s not some sort of psychopath. She’s here looking for her family.” 

“Tell her to file a missing persons,” Cartwright said. 

“Well, she did. She thinks they’re somewhere below this castle.” Nicholas waited for another smart comment, but that momentarily shut them down. “Just get the background check done, okay?” 

“Yeah, we’ll get to it.” 

Nicholas knew that was the best he was going to get from them. They were willing to cooperate, up to a point. They had found a space just outside of insubordination to inhabit, and were quite happy to stay there. It was best to pick his battles, so he just nodded and went back to his office. 

Danny was waiting for him there. 

“Doris called Ms. Peoples. She said she’d be here soon.” 

“Good.” 

Nicholas perched on the edge of his desk, just a foot away from Danny’s chair. He could touch him, if he wanted. Those moments were happening more and more frequently. The moments where the realization was followed by an impulse almost too powerful to ignore. Nicholas continually blamed the impulses on his relief. Danny meant a great deal to him. More than anybody else on the planet, if he was being honest with himself. That’s why he always tried to fill the space around Danny—he was just happy Danny was there. Thankful, even. 

“Were the Andes being a pain?” 

“How could you tell?” 

“That vein in your forehead. It’s hammering.” 

Nicholas touched his temple self-consciously. “It’s not hammering.” 

“It is. And your face is all red.”   
“Too much sun today. But they’re going to pull her background info.” 

“Do you think you’ll find anything? I mean, if she’s a nutter, it won’t necessarily be on the report.” 

“I don’t think she’s a nutter,” Nicholas said quickly. 

Danny shrugged. “Well, her story is very strange, isn’t it?” 

“I think we’re missing some details, is all.”

“Can I stay while you talk to her? Maybe we can do a bit of good-cop-bad-cop?” 

Nicholas’ lips twisted. “Which are you, exactly?” 

“I’ll be the bad cop.” 

“Right. I’ll keep that in mind if she refuses to cooperate.” 

“Have you ever done that?” 

“No.” He took his notebook from his shirt pocket, hitting it absently against his palm. “Want to do something tonight?” 

“Pub?” 

The pub had been the first thing rebuilt and reopened in the aftermath. Nicholas shook his head. “You know you can’t drink with your pills.” 

“I won’t drink.” 

Nicholas arched his brow. “Really?” 

“You’ll be there with me, right? You can make sure I don’t.” 

“If you can’t drink, why do you want to go?” 

“We haven’t been out in awhile. Nothing else going on, is there?” 

“That remains to be seen,” Nicholas muttered as Charlotte knocked on the door. He straightened and walked across the room open the door. 

Charlotte Peoples looked very put together now. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he seen anybody in Sandford looking so serene and confident. Every strand of hair was perfect, every brush of make-up carefully applied, and her blouse and skirt fit like they had been designed for her tall form. Nicholas took in each detail quickly, automatically, and the overall effect was nothing short of stunning. 

“Inspector Angel? I was told you wanted to speak to me.” 

“Right. Please, come in.” 

Danny stood, politely offering his seat. She accepted it without so much as a nod, like it never occurred to her that Danny wouldn’t offer his seat. Danny, for his part, didn’t seem perturbed by this exchange, though Nicholas was already annoyed with her. Gone was the tired, frantic woman he meant before, and in her place was a woman who seemed to consider herself a princess. 

“Did my notes help you?” She asked, leaning forward. 

Nicholas settled behind his desk, flipping his notebook open. “They were quite interesting. I just have a few more questions.” 

“Of course.” She finally deigned to look at Danny. “I was hoping we could talk alone. This is a rather sensitive matter.” 

“Sergeant Butterman is my partner. I assure you, he can be trusted.” 

“Yes, well, be that as it may, Inspector, I’d still be more comfortable talking to you privately.” 

Danny slipped out of the room before Nicholas could stop him, and Nicholas didn’t bother to hide his annoyance. There was no reason Danny couldn’t stay, unless she was trying to hide something from him. 

“Right then,” he said, once the door closed behind Danny. “I just have a few questions for you.” 

“Of course. I figured you’d might. I’ll do whatever I can to help.” 

“First, I need to know how many times you’ve visited Sandford.” 

“This is my second time,” she answered promptly. “I’ve been here once before to file a missing persons report. That was when I spoke to Frank Butterman.” 

“Are you sure you’ve never been to the village besides that?” 

“Quite sure,” she said stiffly. 

_Doesn’t like to be questioned_ , Nicholas wrote quickly. “I just wanted to be sure we were covering all the bases.” 

“Of course. I understand your job isn’t easy. I didn’t mean to…complicate things.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why weren’t you with your family at the time?” 

“I had to work.” She shook her head. “I always wonder…what if I had been here with them? Could I have done something? Or I would just be…missing, too?” 

Nicholas continued to take notes. _Could I have done something?_

His eyes skimmed over it three times. Something was missing. 

_Sooner?_

No. _Charlotte_. Charlotte wanted to know if _she_ could have done something. 

“The last time you spoke to them was the Saturday night before they were to leave. Is that right?” 

“Yes. I expected to get a call from them the next night. They were taking the train to London, you see. And they weren’t on the passenger manifest.” 

_Why wait until the night they were supposed to leave?_ Nicholas wrote. They were insane, but they weren’t illogical. They always had a reason for everything. Working out their logic was an almost painful process at times, but the logic was _there_. 

Charlotte shifted in her chair, and her skirt rode up her thigh. She didn’t straighten it, and she didn’t look away from him. Instead, she leaned forward, and Nicholas blinked. He wasn’t quire sure how, but her face changed. Not the features, of course. She was still the same woman. But now she was…soft. Her lips were a small cupid bow, her wide eyes an alluring shade of green. 

“I was actually hoping you’d call me tonight,” she said, and even her voice sounded different. A little deeper, husky. 

“Oh?” Nicholas knew he didn’t need to say anything more to encourage her. 

“It can be lonely for somebody who isn’t around here. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

His gaze slid from her to the window behind her shoulder. Danny may have left the room, but he hadn’t gone far. Nicholas wasn’t sure if he could hear what was being said, but there was no way he’d misread her body language. 

“Perhaps it would be more comfortable for you if you went home,” Nicholas suggested, pretending to be oblivious. “This process can take a very long time. I’ve already sent the dental records to the lab, so they can begin looking for matches.” 

Her face hardened again, the mask falling back into place within the space of a breath. “I planned to stay here as long as it took.” 

“I’ll be sure to call as soon as I have any news,” Nicholas promised, deciding the interview could end now. She wasn’t going to give him any more information. Not anything he needed, at any rate. 

“Yes, well.” She stood. Nicholas saw Danny step back, out of sight, from the corner of his eye. “Thank you.” 

Nicholas stood as well. “Have a good evening, Ms. Peoples.” 

Charlotte calmly walked out of the office, as confident and self-assured as when she walked in. As soon as she disappeared out of the room, Danny re-emerged, his face pulled in a confused frown. 

“What was that all about?” 

Nicholas sighed. “I haven’t any idea.” 

“I think she’s trying to hide something.” 

“Undoubtedly.” 

“Angel! Why the fuck have you got us chasing dead ends?” Wainwright demanded, his partner close on his heels. 

Nicholas rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What are you talking about?” 

“Charlotte Peoples from Liverpool is ninety-five years old. Oh, and dead.”


	3. Chapter 3

_It’ll take some time to grow._

That’s what Nicholas had said to Danny after they spent an afternoon planting seeds. 

It would take some time to sprout through the soil. 

It would take some time to develop.

It would take some time to blossom. 

They just needed some patience. 

Nicholas and Danny stood side by side, staring at the tiny hint of green in the cleared earth. After weeks of tending to the garden, of weeding, and watering, there was finally something to show for it. A single, perfect sprout. 

“It’s so small,” Danny said softly. 

“Yeah. But it’s got a good start. By this time next week, the ground will be covered. And look,” he pointed to a thin, spidery vine hugging the wall of his cottage, “I didn’t notice that before.” 

“That’s not a weed, is it?” 

“No, it’s not.” 

Nicholas slid his gaze sideways to study Danny’s face. He looked normal, if a little pale. Nicholas had been waiting for Danny to say something about his doctor’s appointment earlier that day, but Danny hadn’t volunteered any information, though he had been willing enough to answer Nicholas’ direct questions. 

“How are you feeling?” Nicholas asked. 

“Fine, like I told you.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go with you today.” 

“It’s fine. You had to work.” 

“It’s not fine. I told you I’d go with you,” Nicholas said, his voice sharper than he intended. 

“Nicholas, it’s fine. It was just a standard check-up, right?” 

“Right, I know. But this…” Nicholas stopped. He was going to say, _this is how it always happens_. Jeanine’s dad’s funeral hadn’t been his first missed date. It had been the cumulative affect of missing appointments, birthdays, and dates over months and years. He didn’t want to do that to Danny. He didn’t want to start down that road. 

“But you’ve got some strange woman running around town. I’d rather you be figuring out what’s going on with her than sitting in hospital, waiting for me. What did you learn, by the way?” 

“If she lied about her name to trick us, that’s all she did. She was easy enough to track using her parents’ information. She just gave us her mother’s maiden name.” 

“That’s a bit weird, isn’t it?” 

“It might be.”

“She likes you, you know.” 

Nicholas snorted. “No, she doesn’t.” 

“Yes, she does. I saw her.” 

“What you _saw_ was a woman trying to work some sort of angle. She’s probably accustomed to using her considerable talents against men.” 

“But her considerable talents didn’t work on you?” 

“No,” Nicholas said. “They did not.” 

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested,” Nicholas said, moving up the walk to the front door. Danny followed him into the dark, cool cottage, the door clicking shut behind him. Nicholas braced himself for another round of questions, but Danny walked over to Nicholas’ growing movie collection to study it. 

“Haven’t you gotten anything new?” 

“I’ve ordered some. I’m expecting a few in the post this week.” 

“Oh. If she wasn’t a liar, would you be interested?” 

“No,” Nicholas answered honestly. 

“You’re not lonely?” 

“Not at all. I have you here, don’t I?” 

“It’s not the same, is it?” 

“Isn’t it?” 

Nicholas realized what he said the second Danny’s brows furrowed. And there wasn’t any way to call it back. Danny could easily counter that it was different. It was very, very different. For one thing, Nicholas had never touched Danny the way he would touch an attractive woman. But that was just a technicality. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it. Once or twice.

The look they exchanged seemed to last for five, maybe ten minutes. Nicholas was more than happy to take his cues from Danny. If he insisted it wasn’t the same at all, that’s where he’d leave it. Danny meant too much to Nicholas to push it, to make him uncomfortable, to go in a direction he didn’t like. 

“I was going to go home early tonight. I’m a bit tired from the appointment.” 

Nicholas nodded, but he didn’t let it go like he promised himself he would. “I’d like you to stay here tonight, Danny.” 

“You don’t have any new movies to watch.” 

“I don’t really want you to stay for a movie.” 

“Nah, I’ve got to get going. But I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” 

Nicholas’ lips thinned, but he nodded. “Yeah, I’m expecting the coroner’s office to call tomorrow.” 

“The doctor said he can clear me to come back to work in a few weeks.” 

“That’s good. Though you practically spend all your free time at the station anyway.” 

“Nothing else going on, is there?” 

“Do you want a lift?” 

“No. The doctor said I should get a bit more exercise.” 

Nicholas nodded. “Right.” 

It was a bit strange for Nicholas to watch Danny leave, as though he didn’t spend pretty much _all_ his time with him. But Nicholas let him go without further protest. He had paperwork to do in preparation for the new coroner’s report anyway.   
#

_It’ll take some time to get back to normal._

That’s what Nicholas told himself when Danny didn’t come to the station at all the next morning. 

It would take some time to get back to the center.

It would take some time to find a balance. 

It would take some time to put it behind them. 

Nicholas had time, these days. 

The last group of remains that went to the coroner had been a mess of bones. Three men, one woman. All four had been identified. The names were unfamiliar to Nicholas, but that didn’t matter. At least they had names. That meant families needed to be contacted. And then his part of the job would technically be over, as their kin made all the necessary decisions and plans. He’d find out what they were one way or the other, though often the families were kind enough to contact him. 

It wasn’t a secret that he personally attended every service, of course. 

Every time the door opened, he looked up, hoping to see Danny’s familiar smile. He didn’t understand why Danny was finally staying home, like Nicholas had been insisting he should for the past month. Why listen to him now? 

It would take some time, but Nicholas didn’t feel like waiting. He was tired of waiting. His patience was exhausted, but he had a duty, a moral obligation, to keep his cool, to keep plugging away, to keep things rolling. Somebody had to do it. Somebody had to pretend things could be normal again, because everybody was all out of sorts, and nobody could take this mantle if he dropped it. 

But he never thought he’d be waiting on Danny. 

“Your new friend has checked out of the hotel and moved into the Swan,” Fisher said from the doorway. 

“What?” 

“Charlotte Peoples.” 

“Lenmark.” 

“What?” 

“Her name is Charlotte Lenmark.” 

“Oh. Well, she’s moved to the Swan now. Do you still want me to keep an eye on her?” 

“Please.” 

Putting Tony on the case of watching Charlotte had seemed like a good idea at the time. It gave the man something to do, made him feel like he was a part of keeping things going. Plus, Nicholas was very curious about what the woman was up to. He only hoped she didn’t yet realize Tony was shadowing her, but given Tony’s style, she probably did. 

“Have you heard from Sergeant Butterman today?” Nicholas asked, the only outward sign of what was consuming his thoughts. 

“No. Guess the doctor told him to take it easy.” 

“I guess so.” 

Nicholas never left work early during the week, but he was tempted to do so now. Maybe tend to his garden, or the plots he was taking care of in the cemetery. He was a bit obsessive about the weeding, he knew, but he was also self-aware enough to realize why. Plants required more patience than anything else in his life, but he would see a return on his investment. Something would blossom eventually. He didn’t have that guarantee anywhere else. 

But he couldn’t. Because he still had work to do. 

Nicholas took the phonebook out of his bottom drawer and flipped through the pages until he found the P’s. There was only one E. Poundstone listed. He dialed the number and listened to the tone of the ringing phone. 

“Hello? Am I speaking to Emily Poundstone?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ms. Poundstone, this is Inspector Nicholas Angel with the Sandford….” 

“Oh my god.” 

He paused at her outburst. It wasn’t unusual. Everybody always knew why he was calling. 

“Ms. Poundstone, I’m calling to inform you that Robert…” 

“They killed him, didn’t they?” 

“Robert Poundstone’s remains were found in the castle.” 

“Oh my god. Oh my god. They told me…he’s been gone for so many years.” The floodgates opened then, and Nicholas listened patiently. He easily recognized this mingled sound of relief and grief. “Mary Porter told me he left a note…” Her voice caught. “I thought he was living in London all these years. I thought he abandoned his child. I’ve…I’ve hated him…I’ve hated him so much these past years.” 

She may have had the breath to talk, but as soon as she said the last word, her sobbing resumed. His face remained passive throughout the outpouring, so if anybody came to his office, they would never know how much these calls broke his heart. It wasn’t that he never delivered this sort of news before. It was just relentless. There wasn’t an end in sight. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” 

“I suppose you just keep doing what you have been doing,” Nicholas said, oddly unprepared for her question. 

“No, I mean, what am I supposed to do about the body.” 

“Oh. Right. I’ll give you the number for the coroner’s office, and they’ll release the remains to you so you can hold a funeral.” 

“I’ve never planned a funeral before, Inspector.” 

“Reverend Adams will be more than happy to help you with anything you need. And Mrs. Poundstone, accept my consolations for your loss.” 

“Thank you, Inspector.” 

The line went dead in his ear. 

Nicholas replaced the receiver slowly. That didn’t get easier. It wouldn’t, he knew. He began flipping through the phone book, looking for the K’s. If he finished all his calls, he could leave early, like he wanted. Maybe swing by Danny’s place and see if he needed anything from the shop. 

Nicholas had his finger above the key pad, poised to dial the next number, when a knock at his door stopped him. 

“Mind if I come in?” 

Nicholas couldn’t stop his smile of relief erupting. “Of course not, Danny. How are you feeling?”   
“Like rubbish.” 

Nicholas’ smile instantly turned into a frown. “Are you ill? You shouldn’t have come down here if you weren’t feeling well.” 

Danny waved his hand. “No, it’s nothing like that.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure, Nicholas.” 

“Oh. Than what’s the problem?” 

“I shouldn’t have left last night.” 

Nicholas shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “It’s all right. You said you had to rest.” 

“Hey, look, do you want to stick around here?” 

I have work to do. His automatic answer sprang to his lips, but he pushed it back. The truth was, he didn’t want to stick around, and even if he had a whole fucking mountain of forms to deal with, Danny was more important. Whatever Danny had to say was more important. 

“Can you give me a few minutes to finish up here?” 

Danny nodded. “I’ll just be waiting outside then.” 

Nicholas decided to ask Doris to make the other three calls. He wanted to see to as many of them as possible, but Doris at least had a personal connection to these people. Even Tony could probably handle it. There was no reason Nicholas had to be the one to call them, and he didn’t want to keep Danny waiting. 

Once everything was taken care of, delegated, filed, and otherwise dealt with for the afternoon, he slipped quietly out the side door. He thought Danny would be waiting there instead of out front, and he was right. 

“I didn’t really think you’d agree to knock off early.” 

“You asked me to, didn’t you?” Nicholas buried his hands in his jacket pockets. “Are you up for a stroll or do you want to drive?” 

“A stroll is fine.” 

They walked in silence for a moment before Danny said. “I hear they think they’re about done with the castle.” 

“Yeah. Unless they find a new room or something.” 

“When do you think we’ll be moving into the new station?” 

“Soon,” Nicholas said neutrally, keeping his gaze fixed at his feet instead of looking over to study Danny’s face. “The interior isn’t quite done yet. You know, since they’re doing a bit of updating, it’s taking a bit longer.” 

“I don’t really like the castle.” 

“Yeah, me neither.” 

More silence. Nicholas didn’t mind so much. Silence with Danny was different from the silence that pressed on him when he was alone. Maybe that’s what made Danny so special to him. He changed the silence. 

“Nicholas? What were you thinking last night? I mean, when you asked me to stay?” 

He took a deep breath. “I was thinking I’d like you to stay with me, Danny.” 

“Just for the night?” 

“No, in general.” 

Danny didn’t respond immediately, and Nicholas wasn’t sure he would reply at all. Maybe he’d ignore it, like he seemed to ignore Nicholas’ request the night before. When he did speak, he sounded different. Not like himself at all. 

“I’m so tired, Nicholas.” 

Nicholas frowned. “Have you been sleeping?” 

Danny shook his head miserably. 

Nicholas had been attributing Danny’s drawn and pale look to pain, but now he realized it could just as easily be a result of exhaustion. Nicholas hadn’t been sleeping well himself, but usually he could at least get a few hours a night. Enough to keep him going, if not enough to feel rested. 

“Because of your stomach?” 

Danny shook his head again. “It’s like when my mum died. You know suicide is a mortal sin.” 

“I didn’t know you were religious.” 

“I worry a bit about…where she is. And what’s going to happen to my dad.” 

Nicholas swallowed hard. He could tell Danny exactly what was going to happen to his dad. He could tell Danny what sort of treatment Frank Butterman could expect in prison. He could tell Danny the reports he had already received from his friends who worked as guards in the prison. But that’s not what Danny really needed—or wanted—to hear. 

“And it keeps you up at night?” 

“Some nights. Other nights I think about them.” He gestured towards the castle. “I don’t know how you go to all the services.” 

“It’s my duty.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

“Have you been eating?” 

Danny’s shrug was all the answer Nicholas needed. 

“Come on then.” 

“Where we’re going?” 

“We’re going to get some fish and chips, and whatever else you want. Aren’t you supposed to eat when you take your pills?” 

“Yeah, you know.” 

“Danny, you’re going to make yourself sick. Do you know that?” 

“I don’t feel sick.” 

Nicholas didn’t think that was true. Nicholas thought Danny was so accustomed to being ill, to feeling pain, that he didn’t notice it anymore. It was his normal state. And that was entirely unacceptable. 

And, Nicholas felt, it was entirely his fault. He should have been looking after Danny. He should have been going with him to his appointments. He should have known that Danny wasn’t sleeping. And he had no excuses for his neglect. 

“But you probably feel hungry. After we eat, we’ll go around to the shop.” 

Nicholas touched Danny’s arm, gently redirecting him towards the car. A pleasant stroll was the last thing either of them needed now. 

#

Despite’s Danny protestation that he wasn’t hungry, he tucked away two servings of the fish and chips while Nicholas merely picked at his own meal. He even licked his fingers with a familiar enthusiasm that Nicholas hadn’t seen in…well, a very long time. When he pushed the greasy bag away, he flashed Nicholas a genuine smile. 

“I guess I was a bit peckish.” 

“I guess so.” Nicholas stood and began gathering the bags and napkins and Danny’s ketchup packets. “Now, do you have your pills on you?” 

“In my jacket.” Danny moved to stand, but Nicholas pushed him back to the couch gently. “I can get them.” 

“Just stay put. I’ve got them.” He pulled the bottle out of Danny’s pocket and shook two in his hand. “Do you need water?” 

“I’m good.” 

Nicholas pulled two DVD cases out of the shelf. “Die Hard or Kill Bill Vol I?” 

“Both?” 

“Of course. Which one do you want to watch first?” 

“Die Hard.” 

Nicholas smiled and popped the movie into his recently acquired DVD player. The corner of Danny’s mouth lifted, his eyes alight with anticipation. As soon as the movie started, Nicholas settled on the couch beside Danny, as close as he could. Danny looked down at where their legs touched, but otherwise didn’t react. 

Nicholas kept one eye on Danny, his heart twisting a little as his smile widened. He was losing himself in the world of John McClane, and that was fine with Nicholas. He knew his plan would work, if only because is had worked so many times in the past. And he wasn’t seeking a permanent solution to this problem. He just needed to buy a little time. Just a few hours for now. 

Despite Danny’s excitement, his eyes began to droop. Nicholas caught him nodding off a few times, but he always caught himself at the last second, like he didn’t want to let himself go. Nicholas didn’t say anything. He simply watched until Danny’s chin touched his chest, and he didn’t start awake again. 

Gently, Nicholas touched Danny’s cheek and guided his head towards his own shoulder. Danny sighed softly, but didn’t wake up. He turned his body, as if seeking Nicholas’ heat, and his face went slack with sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Nicholas didn’t really sleep. He looked at the television without watching it, and listened to Danny’s even breathing. His breath was warm on Nicholas’ cheek, and it smelled a little bitter, and a little bit like the fish and chips. It was difficult to keep his eyes open. Danny’s breathing, his heart beat, his soft warmth, was almost lulling, hypnotic. 

“In the garden…” 

Nicholas blinked, but he didn’t jerk away from Danny. His eyes were still closed, and if he was just talking in his sleep, he didn’t want to wake him. 

“What’s in the garden?” Nicholas tried softly. 

“Time…” 

_Thyme?_

“Yeah,” Nicholas agreed. 

“What?” Danny asked, straightening. 

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” 

Danny wiped his hand over his face. “Oh, I thought you did.” 

“No. How you feeling?” 

“Groggy. Did I miss the whole movie?” 

“Most of it, yeah. But you needed some rest. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

Danny rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t think you did. I had a dream about something.” 

“About what?” 

He shrugged. “Don’t know. Nothing important, I guess.” 

“Are you hungry?” 

Danny patted his stomach absently. “No, I think I’m still full from dinner.” 

“I could put in the other movie, if you want.” 

“Nah, that’s all right. I should probably go on home.” 

“No.” 

“No?” 

Nicholas shook his head. “No. I’m going to keep an eye on you. I don’t want you to get sick.” 

“Look, I’ll eat before I take my pills, and I’ll be sure to get some sleep and…” 

Nicholas didn’t want to let him continue. He had hoped to put this matter to bed once and for all by making it a matter of Danny’s health. But clearly, things would have to be addressed. “Why don’t you want to stay here, Danny?” 

“It’s not that.” 

Nicholas believed him. “Then what is it?” 

And now Danny looked as miserable as he did before Nicholas fed him and put him in front of the television. “It’s just been really hard.” 

_It’ll just take some time._ “I know, Danny.” 

“There’s that new chocolate ice cream at the shop. You know the one with all those brownie bits and nuts?” 

Nicholas didn’t, but he nodded. 

“And I think my dad would really like that, because he always loved brownies, you know?” 

Nicholas swallowed and nodded again. 

“And last week, I forgot, and I bought him a pint. I was almost out the door before I remembered, and then I didn’t want to eat it, so I just left it right there at the shop. I don’t like the pills because they make me forget things. That’s why I haven’t been taking them.” 

“Oh, Danny…” Nicholas sighed. “Why haven’t you said anything?” 

“You’re busy, aren’t you? Putting Sandford back together again. Somebody’s got to do it, and that’s more important.” 

“No. No, it’s not. Danny, it’s not more important than you. Nothing…nothing here is.” He touched Danny’s cheek with the tips of his fingers. “I’m sorry. I should have made that more clear. Do you know why I came back? I’d like to say it was because it was the right thing to do. Somebody had to do it. But really, I came back for you.” 

There was a beat, like Danny was trying to work out his meaning. And then the clouds in his eyes cleared. His face, always so open, immediately broke into a familiar, shy, pleased smile. If he were a puppy, his entire body would be shaking. Nicholas couldn’t help but return his smile, though his face a little too tight, and the muscles in his throat were sore. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been the most important thing to anybody before.” 

Nicholas hated to hear that, but he knew he couldn’t protest, or tell Danny that wasn’t true. If somebody had just put Danny first, just once in his life, maybe they wouldn’t be stuck in the impossible situation of burying most of the village. Maybe his reverend, and his doctor, and his father wouldn’t have calmly turned guns on him if he had ever been put first. 

“Well, you are now. And if that means I have to call London and request more support here, I will. First thing in the morning.” 

“You shouldn’t do that.” 

“And why not?” 

“Because people here trust you.” 

“Then we’ll work something else out.” They had shifted on the couch during the course of the discussion, and now they were facing each other. Nicholas leaned forward, letting his head touch Danny’s. “Now, I’m going to ask you again.” He offered a wan smile. “Will you please stay here tonight?” 

Danny nodded. 

“Good.” Nicholas stood and reached for Danny’s hand, pulling him to his feet. “You are going to get a decent night sleep. I’m insisting.” 

“You are?”

“I am.” 

Danny allowed himself to be pulled into Nicholas’ small bedroom. Most of his limited space was devoted to a bed and a dresser. He had a south facing window, and the room was both cheery and drab. He hadn’t taken the time to decorate it, or put anything in it beyond the essentials. It wasn’t personalized at all.

Except for a Japanese Peace Lily. It wasn’t the same lily he brought with him to Sandford. That one had been left on the floor of the castle suite in the Swan for far too long. He never even got the chance to go around and collect it. He could only guess it had been thrown out, brown, dead, out of its soil for too long.

The new one was nice. It didn’t feel like his yet, though.

Danny stood in the middle of the room, looking at the bed like he had never seen one before, and he didn’t know what to do with the object before him now. 

“Go on, then. Get ready for bed.” 

“Bed?” 

“I guess you could sleep fully clothed, but that’s probably not very comfortable, is it?” 

Danny looked slightly confused, but he didn’t offer any more protest. He stripped down to his undershirt and boxers, and Nicholas gestured to the bed. Once Danny settled beneath the single blanket, Nicholas discarded his own clothes, except for his boxers, and pulled the blinds shut, blocking the early evening light. It took only a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the new darkness, and he saw Danny watching him from the bed. 

“I haven’t really been sleeping either.” 

“What keeps you up?” 

“Everything. Scoot over a little.”

Danny did, turning on his side near the edge of the mattress. Nicholas settled behind him, his chest pressed against Danny’s back, his arm draped over Danny’s side, his forehead touching Danny’s shoulder. Danny was tense at first, but gradually relaxed, moving closer, like he couldn’t stand to allow even an inch of space between them. 

“Did I ever tell you about the time Father Christmas stabbed me?” 

“You never gave me the details, no.” 

Nicholas began reciting the story softly, providing all the details. Like before, he knew Danny was trying to hold on, trying to stay awake for the whole thing, but his biological impulses couldn’t be defeated. But this time when Danny fell asleep, Nicholas allowed himself to follow, his heavy eyes falling shut before the sun sank before the edge of the horizon. 

#

Nicholas tapped his pen against the desk absently, his gazed fixed out the window, though he wasn’t really seeing anything. He had been stuck in that pose for at least fifteen minutes, but maybe more. He kept thinking he should get back to work, but just thinking it wasn’t enough to prompt him into action. 

If asked, he’d say he didn’t know what was wrong with him. He had never had this problem before in his life. It was one thing to be unable to switch off, but now he couldn’t seem to switch on. He wasn’t tired. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so well. For so long. A little over ten hours of sleep uninterrupted. He wasn’t hungry.

But he was distracted. 

Nicholas’ alarm had gone off at five that morning, and he had reacted quickly, rolling over to shut it off before it could wake up Danny. It hadn’t been difficult to get out of bed. Or to go out for his morning jog. But when he returned to the cottage, Danny was sleeping on his back, the sheet tangled around his legs, and Nicholas was drawn to the bed. He had watched Danny sleep for several silent minutes, and Danny never stirred.

Was he awake now? Likely. It was late. Nearly lunch time. On the other hand, if Danny had been suffering insomnia for the past several weeks, his body might need more than a single night to catch up on its sleep debt. 

Nicholas licked his lips. His mouth had been dry all morning, like he was in a perpetual state of anticipation. He was expecting _something_ , but he didn’t know what. It would be reasonable to think it had something to do with Danny, but Nicholas wasn’t sure about that. 

Maybe he would go home at lunch. Check on Danny. The morning was probably going to be a complete bust, but there was still hope for the afternoon. Maybe he would be less distracted if he knew Danny was okay. 

Clicking his pen, Nicholas leaned over his desk once again and forced his mind back to the task at hand. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the page, and another few seconds to realize what he expected to see and what he actually saw were two very different things. He had expected to see more paperwork from the coroner’s office. 

But it was a police report. From Liverpool. And it wasn’t just the missing persons report he had requested.

Nicholas narrowed his eyes, his lips moving slightly as he read. He jotted notes on his pad, pulling in the important details from the reports. When he was finished, he re-read what he wrote with a growing sense of horror. 

_On July 7, 2000, police were called to Richard and Charlotte Lenmark’s residence, after several noise complaints that sounded like a domestic disturbance. The responding officers investigated and found Charlotte Lenmark alone in her home. She said she was alone, and her family was on holiday in the country. Neighbors called the police again on July 30, 2000, complaining of an unpleasant smell. The same officers responded, but nobody was home. The matter was dropped, until Charlotte Lenmark, calling herself Charlotte Peoples, filed a missing persons report on August 15, 2000._

He flipped through the notebook. She claimed her family had been visiting Sandford in June of 2000. The details Danny could remember of her nephew supported that claim. Nearly ten weeks separated their supposed holiday from the filing of the missing persons report. Why would she wait so long if she truly did not know where her family was? 

“Jesus Christ,” Nicholas said under his breath. There wasn’t much there, but his gut told him he wouldn’t be finding any of Charlotte’s late family in the castle. 

Nicholas reached for the phone, hesitated, sat back in his seat. For a split second, he had been tempted to boot this back to the Liverpool authorities. It technically wasn’t his problem, and it wasn’t his jurisdiction, and didn’t he have enough on his plate without adding a murder investigation to the load? 

But, for whatever reason, she had come to him. She had sought him out. She had brought this mess to him, depositing at his feet like a cat offering a dead rat as some sort of gift. Why she didn’t wasn’t as important as the fact that she had. So what was he going to do about it? 

Question her, first. 

Then see where things went from there. 

#

Charlotte seemed surprised to see him, but not disappointed. In fact, when she opened the door to let him in, she was positively beaming. She had either forgotten her earlier annoyance with him, or she was doing a damned good job of pretending that Nicholas Angel was the only man on the planet she wanted to spend time with. 

“Inspector Angel, please come in. I was just thinking about coming around the station this afternoon.”   
“Well, then, I guess I saved you a trip.” 

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Or maybe we could go down and get some lunch?” 

“I’m fine, thank you.” 

“Well, please, have a seat.” She gestured at the single chair in the small room. Even though he politely sat, she continued to hover around him. But he didn’t think she was nervous. Finally, she sat on the foot of the bed, her knees pressed together, her hands resting on her lap. Her skirt rode up her thighs a bit, revealing more skin than necessary. Nicholas pointed ignored it, his gaze focused on her face. “What can I help you with today?” 

“I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I know the waiting game can be a frustrating one.” 

“It is a little trying,” Charlotte said with a small smile. “I do miss my home a bit. But I don’t want to go back until I’m sure.” 

“Of course. I do have one question if you don’t mind me asking. Why did you change your name?” 

Charlotte blinked. “I fail to see what that has to do with my family, Inspector.” 

“I’m curious. Have you remarried?” 

She laughed. “Oh no, nothing like that. After my husband and I became estranged, I went back to my maiden name.” 

“But Peoples is your mother’s maiden name, is it not?” 

Her face froze for a moment. “Well, yes. I just wanted a new start, you know?” 

“Oh?” Nicholas consciously relaxed his features and leaned forward slightly. “Why is that?” 

She waved her fingers dismissively. “You know how it is. I’d been with Richard since I was fifteen. For nearly everybody, I was just….an appendage or something. When we finally separated, I wanted people to see _me_.” 

“Sounds like you had a bit of a difficult time.” 

Charlotte looked away, her eyes distant. “Yeah, you know, everybody loved Richard. He was always the smartest, and the best looking, and the most successful. Even my own family…” Her voice faded, and when she looked at Nicholas again, he wasn’t sure she was actually seeing him. “The night I left him, my mother actually drove me back to the house so we could _patch things up_. Like there was anything left to patch up.” 

Nicholas nodded. “How long were you two separated before he disappeared?” 

Normally, he would expect somebody to be able to answer this question immediately. But she paused, obviously doing the math. When she answered him, she sounded unsure, like she was asking rather than telling. 

“Three months.” 

“And he was still going on holiday with your family?” 

Charlotte laughed bitterly. “Of course. Richard was the son they never had. And sometimes I thought they were more worried about keeping him around than they worried about my feelings. Do you have any idea what it’s like, Inspector Angel, to know your own family has such fucked up priorities?” 

“No,” Nicholas answered honestly. 

“I didn’t realize they were missing immediately,” Charlotte admitted. “Because I wasn’t on speaking terms with them. And I wasn’t taking my mother’s maiden name. My grandmother was always there for me. Her name was Charlotte Peoples.” 

Nicholas believed her, to some extent. He believed she had been put in a difficult situation. He believed her parents turned their backs on her when she needed them most. He believed she probably wasn’t on speaking terms with them. But he also believed she was on holiday with them. And he believed she was not alone in her home on July 7, 2000. 

“I see. It is a nice name.” 

“I’m sorry, Inspector, I didn’t mean to go on and on like this. I’m sure you didn’t come here to get my whole life story.” 

“No, please don’t apologize. Have you been living alone for the past seven years?” 

“Yes. It’s better that way. Besides, there’s nobody waiting for me to come home, so I can stay here as long as necessary.” 

“That might be a long time,” Nicholas warned. “This is slow, slow work.” 

Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t mind. It is rather nice here in Sandford, isn’t it?” 

“I like it here.” 

“I had my problems with them, Inspector, but I never thought they deserved to die.” 

“I know.” And maybe he believed that, too. He stood. “I’m sorry, I have an appointment. I just wanted to look in on you. Is there anything you need? Anything else I can do?” 

“Just help me put this behind me. That’s all I really need.” 

Nicholas nodded. He understood.


	5. Chapter 5

Nicholas found Danny standing in the middle of his kitchen, a container of yogurt in one hand, a perplexed, sour look on his face. His jaw worked, and he swallowed the food with another grimace before setting the carton down. 

“What was that?” 

“Yogurt.” 

“That was disgusting.” 

“Well, it’s plain yogurt.” 

“Blah. Do you have anything else in here?” 

“I’ve got some fruit,” Nicholas said, walking over to the fridge. “Did you just wake up?” 

“Yeah, about a half hour ago.” He ran his hand over his eyes. “Still feel like I’m half-asleep, though.” 

“You want a sandwich?” 

“I can do it.” 

“No, I’m making myself one anyway. Just sit down.” 

Danny did so without further protest, and Nicholas could feel his eyes on him as he moved around the kitchen. When Nicholas glanced at him, he saw that the vague sense of confusion was still evident on Danny’s face. 

“You don’t usually come home for lunch, do you?” 

“No, but I wanted to come by and see you.” 

“Check up on me, you mean?” 

Nicholas shrugged, taking a loaf of all-grain bread from the box. “That, too. How are you feeling?” 

“Better.” 

“Good.” 

“I was a bit confused though, when I woke up. I didn’t remember where I was.” 

“Sorry. I almost woke you up this morning before I left, but I thought you needed your sleep,” Nicholas said, his head down as he concentrated on building the sandwiches. One for him. Two for Danny. Though, he didn’t really have an appetite, and Danny might end up eating all three. 

“Thanks, by the way.” 

“For what?” Nicholas asked absently. 

“For last night.” 

“Oh. Well, you’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?” 

“Yeah, I would. But you don’t really need that sort of thing, do you?” 

Nicholas frowned and looked up. It wasn’t the words that caught his attention, but rather Danny’s tone. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’ve got it all together.” 

“Not really, Danny,” he muttered, before looking down again.

He heard Danny push the chair back and stand again, heard the soft thud of his feet hitting the floor as he crossed the room. He didn’t look around to track his progress, but he wasn’t startled when a hand came down on his shoulder. Danny’s fingers were hot through his thin shirt. Nicholas didn’t look up immediately. He couldn’t. He felt like everything was coming undone, and it would be safer to focus on the sandwich that he no longer wanted.

“Rough morning?” 

“You could say that. I think Charlotte might be guilty of more than just lying. And I don’t think we’re going to find her family here.” 

“That’s good then, isn’t it?”   
“No. I don’t know where they’re going to find her family. Maybe in her own basement.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

Danny’s grip tightened, and Nicholas had a sudden flash of memory. Just before dawn that morning, Danny had rolled over and wrapped his arms around Nicholas, like he had been nothing more than the cuddly monkey. And he had rested his head against Nicholas’ shoulder, muttering a bit in his sleep before relaxing again. 

“What are you going to do?” 

“Not much I can do, except contact the authorities in Liverpool.” 

“I don’t understand. If she’s guilty of…well, if she’s guilty of something, why would she come here? I mean, didn’t she think you’d notice?” 

“She might have been counting on it. Or she might have thought she could claim five unidentified bodies here and give her family a proper burial, in a sense. Or maybe she’s just crazy. I’ve seen odder things.”

“You okay? You don’t sound like it.” 

Nicholas shrugged. “Yeah. What do you want to do this afternoon? You can stay here, if you like, or you can come with me to the castle. I know you don’t like being stuck inside all day.” 

While Nicholas spoke, Danny had moved even closer, and now he was standing against his back, looking over shoulder to the half-finished sandwiches. Nicholas closed his eyes. 

“I haven’t decided yet. I was hoping maybe….” 

“What?” 

“Could you take a longer lunch?” 

Nicholas didn’t have to see Danny’s face to know it was completely unguarded. If he turned his head just a little, he’d see a lot more than a simple question in Danny’s eyes. Danny would never choose to test him, but in a way, this was a test. He wanted to know if Nicholas had meant what he said the night before, if he still meant it now. 

He set the knife down besides the half-buttered piece of bread, then slowly turned to face Danny. Danny took a step back, but Nicholas fisted his shirt, pulling him closer again. His other hand went to the back of Danny’s neck, his fingers threading through the hair that was just a little too long. 

Nicholas pressed his lips against Danny’s in a brief, close-mouthed kiss. Danny didn’t pull away, but he didn’t return the kiss either. 

“Does that answer your question?” Nicholas asked. 

Danny looked at him with wide eyes, and for a second, Nicholas thought he had gone too far. But then he smiled, and nodded. 

Nicholas didn’t know who made the next move, but suddenly their mouths were sealed together again, and Danny had both hands on Nicholas’ ribs, just below his chest. Nicholas sighed softly as he parted his lips, the tip of his tongue tracing Danny’s mouth. The caress was slow, almost hesitant, partly because Nicholas didn’t know what to expect from Danny. Partly because he hadn’t kissed anybody in a very long time. Partly because he didn’t want to rush the moment. He would never get a second chance at this. He would never get a do-over if he fucked it up. And he didn’t want Danny to think he was rushing anything, or that he had someplace else to be. 

Nicholas gently backed Danny across the kitchen, until his back was pressed against the sink. His lungs began to burn, but he resisted the urge to lift his head. Danny’s mouth was warm, and tasted of sleep, and tea, and a little bit bitter from the yogurt. His tongue slid against Nicholas’, hesitant at first, but then growing bolder and bolder, until he was exploring the curves and lines of Nicholas’ mouth without hesitation. 

And he was as surprisingly good kisser. Surprising, because Nicholas wasn’t entirely sure Danny had a lot of experience. It was difficult to tell, since Danny always had a vaguely innocent, boyish quality that seemed to preclude sexuality. 

But soon, Nicholas couldn’t deny his need to breathe. He lifted his head, quickly gasping for breath, but before he could move in for another kiss, Danny turned his head away. Nicholas froze, his heart jumping to his throat. If Danny wanted to stop, of course Nicholas would respect that, but he really hoped Danny didn’t want to stop, because he hadn’t been this close to anybody in a long time, and his body wanted more. 

“What?” Nicholas rasped. 

Danny looked at him, almost shyly, then glanced away again. Nicholas gently took his chin and forced him to look at him again. He studied Danny’s face for a moment, looking for any trace of distress or unhappiness. But he didn’t look upset. He just looked a little confused, a little surprised, a little shy. 

“Danny…” 

Danny licked his lips and then smile a little. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Nicholas to tilt his head and find his lips again. Something in Danny shifted. Before, he seemed to be happy to follow Nicholas’ lead, but now Danny kissed him with a hungry mouth. Nicholas sucked his breath in sharply, something hot flaring in his gut and spreading through him. His fingers curled against Danny’s shoulders, digging into his skin through his shirt. He knew he was holding Danny a little too tightly, but a part of him was absurdly afraid of letting him go. 

The ringing telephone cut through the fog around his brain, but he managed to ignore it. It stopped after six rings, and then immediately started again. His cell phone rang next, vibrating against his thigh in his pocket. He pulled himself away from Danny with a small moan of frustration and reached for his phone. 

“Angel, here.” 

“Sorry for interrupting your lunch, Chief, but we have a report…” 

“A report of what, Doris?” 

“Bodies, Chief.” 

“ _What_? Where?” 

“Leslie Tiller’s shop. Apparently, the demolition crew uncovered…remains.” Doris’ voice was unnaturally somber. Dour, even. 

“I’ll be right there. Send over everybody, and contact the coroner’s office.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Nicholas hung up the phone and leaned heavily against the counter. For a moment, it all felt like too, too much. Like everything they had done in the past few months had been for nothing, because it was…

“What’s going on?” Danny asked. 

“It’s never going to be over.” 

Danny touched his arm. “Nicholas?” 

“The demolition crew working on Leslie Tiller’s shop has uncovered more bodies. We were almost done with the castle, and now…well, there’s no telling how much is left to do, is there?” 

“I’ll come with you.” 

“Danny…you know what the doctor said about stress.” 

“We’re partners, aren’t we?” 

Nicholas nodded. “We are.” 

“Then I’m going with you.” 

“Yeah. All right. Get dressed.” 

Danny didn’t smile, but his eyes lit up, and he hurried out of the room, leaving Nicholas alone in the kitchen. He put everything away as he waited for Danny. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would only be one or two. Maybe….but what was he thinking? One or two was _so bad_. 

Danny emerged from the hallway. He almost looked like himself again, except his uniform was a bit too wrinkled, and the lines around his mouth were a bit too deep. 

“Let’s roll.” 

#

Beneath the blooming lavender and the fragrant heather at the back of Leslie Tiller’s lot, the demolition crew found eight bodies. They were all buried near the surface. From what Nicholas could gather from the man operating the backhoe, he barely scraped the ground when he revealed the first leg. 

“Right. Everybody who is not authorized needs to leave the property right now,” Nicholas ordered. 

“Is this going to slow up the work?” Sam, the foreman, asked from behind him. 

Nicholas spun around. “Yes, it’s going to slow up the work. We’re going to have to cordon off the entire lot, and the shop, and call in forensics.” 

“How long will that take?” 

“Weeks. Months, maybe.” 

“You can’t do that.” 

“Yes, in fact, I _can_ do that. And I am. I’m sorry, but the bypass is going to have to wait until we take care of this situation properly. Now, if you could please get on the other side of the police tape, you’re tramping all over a crime scene.” 

Sam’s face twisted in annoyance, but he whistled to his crew and gestured for the men to follow him. 

He heard, rather than saw, the Andes approach, and braced himself for another round of arguing, but neither of them seemed interested in picking a fight.   
“We already got an ID on two of the bodies,” Cartwright informed him. 

“How?” Nicholas asked without thinking. 

“Recognized them,” Cartwright answered. 

Nicholas’ gaze moved from him to his partner, but the other Andy was pointedly not looking at him. Or anywhere, in fact. He seemed like he was half ready to bolt. 

“I’m sorry. Who were they?” 

“Andy’s cousin’s brother-in-law and his wife.” 

Nicholas nodded. “I’m stopping demolition and construction here. I don’t want any of the crew in here until every single inch of this place has been sifted through. And then we’re going to go up to Weaver’s farm. After that, I want to put a list together of places we should excavate.” 

“You want us to be tearing up the entire village?” 

“Yes.”

“We’ll go tell Tony.” 

“Thank you.” 

Nicholas moved through the area carefully, making his way past tables that once held a wide variety of plants, and then behind the greenhouses. He tried to brace himself for the tableaux in front of him, but of course, you never really could brace yourself for something like that. No matter how many times you see it. 

The bodies were still more or less intact. The backhoe had barely disturbed the bodies, and they were laying just like they must have been dumped into their mass grave. His stomach clenched as the heavy scent hit him. He knew he wasn’t going to be sick, but that was a cold, cold comfort. 

“How are you doing?” Danny asked, joining him by the shallow crater. 

“I’ve…been better,” Nicholas admitted. “I thought this was almost over. I thought we could finally tell everybody it’s over.” 

“Maybe it is now. Maybe this’ll be the last.” 

“It’s _not_ the last. It’s not the fucking end. We’re going to find another grave and another fucking one after that, until this entire fucking village is torn apart.” 

Nicholas didn’t realize he was shouting until Danny took a step back, and everybody around them lapsed into silence. They all looked at him with similar horrified expressions, and the pain in Danny’s eyes was unmistakable. 

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have yelled like that.” 

“It’s fine. It happens.” 

Nicholas shook his head. 

“Chief, I can take over from here,” Tony said, a little too eager to show off some of his recent training. Tony wasn’t innately lazy or inept, he just needed the proper motivation. He wasn’t a great officer yet, but he was getting better. And he never missed an opportunity to prove it. 

“Yeah, maybe you should,” Nicholas said before stalking away from the grave. 

Danny had to hurry to keep up with him, and he didn’t slow down to make it easier on the other man. His anger built each step, but it was all directed at himself. He shouldn’t have shouted. He shouldn’t have walked away. He shouldn’t be leaving his responsibility. But despite all that, he didn’t stop until he reached his car. 

“Nicholas…” 

“ _Fuck_.” 

He kicked the car’s tire, but that didn’t do anything except send a shockwave of pain up his foot. Not satisfied with that, he slammed his fist against the door. The pain in his foot had been dull, but the agony that spread through his hand was shockingly vivid, and it raced up his arm to his shoulder. Flexing his fist, he noticed all four knuckles had were scraped with blood. 

“Nick.” Danny caught Nicholas’ arm before he could slam it into the car again. “Please.” 

Nicholas’ first reaction was to yank his arm away, but a single glance at Danny’s concerned face stopped him. Because it wasn’t just _concern_. He was obviously worried, even scared. 

“I’m sorry, Danny. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Danny’s hand moved from Nicholas’s arm to his wrist, and he held Nicholas’ hand close to his face, studying the bloody knuckles. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket with his free hand and gently wiped the worse of the blood away. 

“Don’t apologize to me. It wasn’t my hand you almost broke.” 

“It’s not broken,” Nicholas murmured. 

“You might need some ice.” 

“I should go back.” 

Danny shook his head. “Tony’s got it under control for now. I think you should cool down a bit.” 

“I am cool, now.” 

“No. You’re not.” 

Nicholas stared at him for a moment, and realized he wasn’t going to win this fight. Except by pure force, which wasn’t an option at all. He looked over Danny’s shoulder to the flower shop helplessly, and for a moment, all he could see was Leslie Tiller’s blood spouting from her neck to coat the window. 

“Hey.” 

Nicholas dragged his gaze back to Danny. He was still holding his hand, still dabbing at his knuckles, though now his movements were almost absent-minded. 

“What?” Nicholas asked.

“I think you need to give yourself a break.” 

“I don’t think I can. I need to go back. Nobody else is getting a break from this.” 

“You saved them from worse. It’s hard to know the truth, Nicholas. It’s hard to live with it. But given the choice, I think we’d all rather know. Isn’t that why the memorial services are so important?” 

“Closure. That’s what you’re talking about. And it can be a pretty cold comfort.”

“It’s better than people disappearin’ all the time, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah. It is.” Nicholas took a deep breath. “I think I should go back now.” 

Danny dropped his hand. “Yeah, I know. But try to leave it here, yeah? Don’t drag all of this home with you. You’re going to make yourself sick.” 

Nicholas opened his mouth to protest, but Danny cut him off. “Look, I wasn’t the only one told to rest, and your stress is going to make things worse. I listened to you last night, now you can listen to me.” 

“Yeah, I know. And I will.” 

“Do you mean it?” 

“Yeah,” Nicholas said softly, “I do.” 

Danny nodded. “Good.” 

“But you can probably go back to the cottage, if you want.” 

“Nope. I’m going to stay right here with you.”

“I promise I won’t punch any more innocent automobiles.” 

“I think I’ll stay anyway.” 

Nicholas nodded. He wouldn’t say as much because he _knew_ it was selfish, _knew_ it was better for Danny to go home, but he was really glad he didn’t have to go back there alone.


	6. Chapter 6

Nicholas fiddled with the faucets, looking for the right spot, the perfect combination, to get the hottest water possible. He knew there wasn’t enough hot water in Sandford, maybe in all of England, to make himself feel clean, but he had to try. Over the roar of the old pipes, he heard Danny in the living room, settled in front of the television. Had he put in another movie? Nicholas didn’t know. He didn’t even know if Danny was _watching_ the television. Maybe he was asleep. Maybe just wanted the company. 

Nicholas needed a hot shower and a cold beer before he’d be fit company. Or anything resembling fit company. Danny would understand if Nicholas wasn’t in the mood to talk. That was another thing Nicholas appreciated about Danny—he always understood when Nicholas didn’t have anything to say. 

Nicholas sighed as the water burned his fingers, and finally stepped into the shower. His skin immediately turned a bright shade of red, and he naturally twisted away from the water as it hit the sensitive skin on his neck and lower back. After a few seconds, he adjusted to the temperature and relaxed under the spray. 

Three more bodies were discovered under the flower beds, for a total of eleven. But when they finally left the scene for the night, it looked like the eleventh body would be the final one found there. Why had they chosen to hide the victims there? Nicholas would arrange a meeting to ask if he thought any of them would answer his question. But every time he had gone to question any of the members, he was meant with silence, petulance, and the occasional threat. 

Nicholas vigorously scrubbed himself with a rough cloth, until his skin, already red from the water, tingled. His stomach growled as he rinsed the soap from his body, and he realized he hadn’t had anything to eat that day, save for a cup of coffee that had substituted for his breakfast. His stomach cramped at the thought. 

He turned the water off before it began to cool and stepped out of the shower, securing a towel around his hips. Nicholas wiped the fog away from the mirror, creating a small window of visibility, and reached for his razor. He moved on autopilot, each motion a deeply ingrained habit. He’d shave, brush his teeth, comb his hair…

“Nicholas?” 

Nicholas started, feeling as though Danny had just yanked him from a nap. “What?” He shouted through the closed door. 

The doorknob turned slowly. He hadn’t locked it. He was accustomed to living alone. 

“I made tea. If you’re hungry,” Danny said, the door opening just a crack. “Are you hungry?” 

“I am. Thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.” 

Nicholas thought that would be the end of it, but Danny didn’t shut the door, and a cold draft of air rushed into the room, sending a chill down his spine. 

“Is there anything else, Danny?” 

“No…I mean….” He stepped into the room and shut the door. Steam swirled around them, partially obscuring Danny’s face. “Are you all right, then?” 

“Better than I was this afternoon,” Nicholas answered honestly. He couldn’t really say more than that. He was better, by virtue of being away from the mass grave. 

The room would have been cramped anyway, with both of them, but the steam closed the room further. It felt like they were touching, but they weren’t. Not quite. He had been too tired and distracted to think about picking up where they left off earlier that day—and it felt more like weeks before—but now it was very much on his mind. And maybe it was on Danny’s too. 

“Can I see?” Danny asked, his fingers closing around Nicholas’ wrist. 

He nodded, allowing Danny to lift his knuckles to eye level. The skin was slightly discolored and scraped, but all in all, the injury was minor. Minor enough that Nicholas didn’t forget the brief flare of satisfaction when he had made contact with the car. 

“Do you think it needs ice?”   
“No, no. It’ll be fine by morning.” 

“I suppose so.” 

Danny lowered his hand, but didn’t release him. They both took a shuffling step at the same time, and it could have been awkward, but Nicholas didn’t feel awkward. He just felt a little hollow, like some part of him needed to be filled. His anger, and sadness, had occupied that space earlier, but now even that had drained away. The only time the empty spots were less noticeable was when he was with Danny. 

And maybe Danny felt the same about him, because this time he made the first move. His lips were light on Nicholas’ mouth, a brush of contact, a mere invitation. The only invitation Nicholas needed. He gripped Danny’s shoulders and deepened the caress. He craved the contact on a level that had been ignored for too long. It was easy to lose himself to his anger and frustration. Until that afternoon, he had no idea how close it all was to the surface. 

It was ready to consume him, and for the first time, Nicholas was aware of the danger he was in. 

But he seemed safe from that threat when Danny gently wiped the blood away from his knuckles, and when Danny helped him weed his garden, and when Danny allowed Nicholas to kiss him like there wasn’t a single reason they shouldn’t be that close. 

Nicholas rested his hand on the back of Danny’s neck. The steam in the bathroom made his skin a little sticky, and the tips of his hair were a little damp against the back of Nicholas’ hand. He was also very warm to the touch. Every bit of him was unbelievably warm. His lips, his breath, his skin, his tongue. Nicholas moved his fingers to Danny’s throat as he continued to explore his mouth. He didn’t quite touch Danny’s pulse, but Nicholas could still feel it. It was racing. Almost as fast as Nicholas’ own heart. 

“We shouldn’t stay here,” Nicholas breathed against Danny’s mouth. “It’s not very comfortable.” 

“Bedroom?” 

“Yeah.” 

Danny nodded. But Nicholas didn’t move, even though he had made the suggestion. Moving would require breaking the contact, which he wasn’t keen on. In fact, a part of him was a little afraid that if he stepped away from Danny now, something would happen—the phone would ring, Danny would get second thoughts, something. 

Danny placed his hand flat on Nicholas’ chest and gently pushed him back. But he wasn’t pushing him away. He slid his hand from Nicholas’ chest to his shoulder, holding him as he opened the door. The touch was light, simple, but it was enough to make Nicholas follow him out of the small bathroom and into the equally small bedroom. The air was much cooler there, and his skin erupted in a rash of goose bumps. Each step he took loosened his towel further, until he was standing at the foot of the bed, and it was in serious danger of hitting the floor. 

“I’m feeling a bit under-dressed,” Nicholas said, holding the towel closed. “Or you’re a bit over-dressed.” 

A smile played on Danny’s mouth, and he pulled his jumper over his head. “How’s that?” 

Nicholas barely heard the question. He was too distracted by the white bandage taped to Danny’s side. His chest and arms were also covered with small wounds. Shrapnel from the explosion. Some were pink, already scarred over. Some were still a little red. Some of them would fade with time. Some of them wouldn’t. 

“Does it hurt?” Nicholas asked.

“No, it’s alright.” 

Nicholas searched his face, looking for any sign of a lie, but Danny’s eyes were direct and sincere. Nicholas forgot about his towel, and the scars, and the bandage on Danny’s side, and closed the distance between them. Their mouths met like they had never parted, like the short break had been entirely imagined. With one major difference. Nicholas was pressed against Danny’s body, and the hair on his chest brushed against Nicholas’ skin. 

Danny gently tugged the towel away, allowing it to drop to the floor at their feet. A chill raced through Nicholas’ body, but he wasn’t cold any more. How could he be? Danny’s warmth surrounded him, and Danny’s grip seemed to tighten with each second. They were clinging to each other before the kiss ended, and the kiss didn’t really end. It just shifted until they were both gasping for breath.

Nicholas teased Danny’s lips with his tongue, their mouths touching and breaking apart in a series of small kisses as Nicholas worked Danny’s belt free. His fingers were a little stiff, but he managed to unbuckle the belt and work Danny’s zipper down. Danny caught his breath when Nicholas brushed his fingers across his shaft through his pants. The sharp reaction sent a flurry of sparks down Nicholas’ spine. His cock, semi-erect until then, hardened completely. 

Danny’s pants joined the towel on the floor. His breath was coming in short, sharp gasps, echoing Nicholas’. For a moment, Nicholas felt like he was stepping outside his own body. He could see himself, see Danny, see the entire room in perfect three-hundred-and-sixty degree clarity. The floor dipped beneath him, and the walls seemed to move. Nicholas tore his mouth away, resting his forehead on Danny’s shoulder until the moment of vertigo passed. 

“Something wrong?”   
Nicholas shook his head and straightened. “No, nothing. At all.” 

Danny looked like he wanted to say something, but Nicholas captured his mouth before he could speak and pushed him back to the bed. Danny settled flat on his back, still clutching Nicholas, and Nicholas straddled him, his knees on either side of Danny’s thighs, trapping their cocks together against Nicholas’ stomach. 

Nicholas tried to support as much of his weight on his knees and elbow as he could, but he still lifted his head and asked, “Is this okay?” 

Danny nodded. “Don’t move.” 

“I won’t,” Nicholas breathed, reaching between their bodies. 

He wrapped his hand around their lengths and squeezed experimentally. He didn’t quite know what to do in this situation. If he had ever felt any sort of sexual attraction to another man, he had certainly never acted on it. Feeling Danny’s arousal against his was very alien, but not bad. He briefly wondered if Danny felt the same sort uncertainty or confusion about just what to do. 

Nicholas began to move his wrist, sliding his shaft against Danny’s smooth skin. He could feel Danny’s pulse, and his own body throbbed in time. It had been awhile since Nicholas had been with anybody, and he was reminded of that more and more with each stroke. He didn’t want this to end too soon, but Danny was making it very difficult to keep himself under control. He kept making soft noises in the back of his throat, and his mouth was hungry, and he jerked his hips beneath Nicholas with each even stroke. 

Danny covered Nicholas’ hand with his own, increasing the pressure, and forcing him to quicken the tempo. The fact that Danny obviously wanted this—needed this—as much as he did, more than anything else, led to Nicholas’ undoing. He could feel his control snapping, like a taut chord whipping and writhing through his body. It started at the balls of his feet and sparked through him. He deepened the kiss, pressing his mouth against Danny’s with so much force, he could feel the other man’s teeth cutting into his lips. But the prick of pain wasn’t enough to distract Nicholas. 

Danny tensed first, his muscles pulling tight beneath Nicholas’ body. Their tongues dueled for a moment before Danny turned his head away, an odd, frantic moan escaping his throat. The first splash of warm liquid against Nicholas’ hand was enough to push him over the edge, and he came with Danny’s name on his lips. 

He touched his forehead to Danny’s and took several deep breaths. Nicholas didn’t know if that was what he had been expecting, or even if that’s what he wanted, but he knew he didn’t regret it. He knew he didn’t want Danny to leave. 

Nicholas carefully rolled away from Danny to his uninjured side. 

“You might need to shower again,” Danny murmured. 

“You, too.” 

Danny brushed his hand over his stomach, then held his fingers up to the light, examining them for a second. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“Do you mind if we hold off on that for a little bit?” Nicholas asked. He had no desire to move. In fact, he just wanted to fit himself around Danny’s back and go to sleep like the night before. “I’ll get the towel.” 

He felt around the floor with his foot until he found the towel. He hooked his toes beneath it and flipped it into the air and onto the bed. 

“There, now you don’t have to move.” 

Danny took it and dragged the towel across his stomach and groin. They didn’t speak again for a long time, lying side by side, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Nicholas kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling, and eventually, his breathing and heartbeat returned to its resting pace.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **When the mysteries we believe in  
>  Aren’t dreamed enough to be true  
> Some side with the leaves  
> Some side with the seeds**\--Side With the Seeds

Nicholas woke as the rain stopped, and by the time he dressed and ventured into the kitchen to make tea, the sun was shining on the droplets of water that still clung to the grass and windows. Like the morning before, he left Danny asleep in bed while he went through his morning routine. Unlike the previous morning, Nicholas didn’t leave for the station once he dressed and ate. 

He settled at the kitchen table, a cup of tea cooling at his hand, with his notes, and the records and photographs Charlotte had provided. He wasn’t going to let this hang over his head for a day longer than necessary. Charlotte wouldn’t leave until she got what she wanted from him, whatever that was. 

Nicholas flipped through his notebook first, refreshing his memory on the times he spoke to her. He had more than enough reason to consider her a suspect in her family’s disappearance, including an apparent motive. He spread the pictures out next, studying each smiling face. Her parents were fit, and looked maybe five or ten years younger than the ages she gave Nicholas. Her nephew was on the other end of the spectrum. He looked older than his years. According to the date on the print, the young man—Sean—would have been about fifteen, and the picture was taken about seven months prior to their holiday in Sandford. But he could have been eighteen, or even twenty. 

Nicholas could easily imagine Danny believing the young man to be closer to his age than not. And he looked friendly enough in the picture. He had rusty brown hair, and a friendly smile, and engaging blue eyes.

Charlotte’s late husband was thirty-two when he disappeared. The picture showed a handsome man with intelligent eyes and a small, reserved smile. He was also a very big man. The sort who was naturally large and spent hours every week in a gym. He was standing next to Charlotte’s parents, Russell and Miranda Hopkins, in the picture, and he towered over them. Nicholas doubted the man could be over-powered easily. 

“What are you looking at?” Danny asked from behind him. 

“Charlotte’s case,” Nicholas said, without looking up. 

“It’s a bit late, isn’t it?” 

“There’s a pot of tea on the counter. But it might be cold by now.” 

Danny settled in the other chair. “Nah, I’m good. Find anything yet?” 

Nicholas glanced up. Danny was wearing the t-shirt he wore the night before, and his hair was sticking up in odd angles. He also needed to shave. But he looked alert, and interested in Nicholas’ answer. 

“No. Here.” He slid the stack of photos across the table. “Have a look.” 

Danny’s brow furrowed in concentration as he began to flip through the prints. Nicholas sipped his cool tea. It didn’t taste great, but it wet his dry lips and tongue. He watched Danny’s face carefully, though he wasn’t sure what he was watching for. 

“Is this Charlotte?” Danny asked, pointing to a woman standing beside Richard Lenmark. 

“No, I believe that’s her sister. Leah.” 

Danny’s frown deepened, and he held the photo closer to his face. “It looks just like her.” 

“Let me see.” Nicholas took the picture and held it the same distance from his nose. It was rather remarkable. She was the same height as Charlotte, with the same coloring, and the same smile. But her hair was styled differently, and she had more lines around her eyes and mouth. “Could this be who you remember seeing?” 

Danny shrugged. “Could be. I didn’t see too much of her.” 

“Is that the boy you remember showing the model village?” 

“Yeah, that’s definitely him.” 

“He didn’t get into any trouble while he was here? He didn’t do anything?” 

“I don’t remember.” 

“Danny…you’re the only witness. You’re the only person who can even place them here for sure. I know that it was several years ago, but I really need you to remember.” 

“I can’t.” 

Nicholas touched the back of Danny’s hand, briefly. “Danny, please. I need your help.” 

“He was throwing rocks.” 

“Where?” 

“In the model village. When he realized the windows were really glass, he broke a few of them. It was just a prank, you know?” 

Nicholas pursed his lips. “Let me guess. Tom Weaver didn’t see it as a prank?” 

“No. He saw Sean on the camera. And me. But it wasn’t a big deal…at the time. I mean, they were already supposed to be out of town, right?” 

Nicholas didn’t bother asking Danny why he hadn’t mentioned that part of the story earlier. They both had a tough week, and Nicholas didn’t think it was unreasonable that Danny hadn’t remembered. Or had chosen not to remember. 

“Did you actually see them leave, though?” 

Danny nodded. “Yeah, on my way into the station. I saw the lot of them drive out of town.” 

“So we have a motive for both the NWA and Charlotte. And we know what the NWA has done to people for less. Now the question is, who acted first? Or did either of them act at all? We might be barking up the wrong tree here.”

“What if they’re both guilty?” Danny suggested. 

“I don’t think so. It would be easier from the NWA’s perspective to make the entire family disappear. And Charlotte was angry with her husband and her parents, but I doubt she had anything against the boy.” 

“Unless she needed to cover her tracks.” 

“He was only sixteen.” 

“I know.” 

“Christ.”   
“What are you going to do?” 

Nicholas pushed the notes and photos away from him. “I’m going to call a contact I have in Liverpool, and see if we can’t dig up some more information on Charlotte Peoples née Lenmark. Or at least get a follow-up on the previously filed police reports. And then I’m going to go the station and look over all of the files on the unidentified remains, again. I did that earlier this week, but maybe I missed something.” 

“Nicholas…” 

“Then I’m going to start working out a plan for more excavations. I want to have a concrete plan to present to the village before we start doing anything.” 

“I want to help. I’ll look through the files on the unidentified bodies.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

Nicholas nodded. “Okay. Maybe it needs a fresh pair of eyes. Or a pair of eyes that’s not distracted every thirty seconds.” 

“Can we stop by at my place? I need to change.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I was also thinking of picking up a few things. Some clothes. My toothbrush. Things like that.” 

“Yeah. That sounds good.” 

Danny smiled. “Good. Your bed is more comfortable than mine, you know?” 

Nicholas couldn’t help but return his smile, though he already felt the weight of his responsibilities settled firmly on his shoulders. “Really?” 

“Oh yeah. There’s a spring in my mattress, always goes right in my ribs.” 

“It’s a good thing I don’t mind sharing then.” Nicholas meant to say it lightly, but more than a hint of relief colored his words. He couldn’t think of any good reason Danny wouldn’t want to stay. But he had been worried, all the same. He had discovered one thing at least in the past two mornings. As much as he liked going to sleep beside Danny, he appreciated waking up with him even more. 

“Yeah,” Danny said, almost thoughtfully. “It is. Come on.” He stood, his hand coming down on Nicholas’ shoulder. “Let’s get to work.”   
#

Bees droned around Nicholas’ feet as he walked, and the air was fragrant and sweet, washed clean the night before by yet another rainstorm. The ground was soft, but not muddy, and the sun was warm, but not hot. It could have been the perfect Sunday morning. The perfect Sunday morning in the best village. But Nicholas wasn’t in the mood to appreciate the perfection, and he doubted his companion was appreciating the tranquility. 

Charlotte kept pace with him, picking her way over the grass. He was surprised to see her in heels when he picked her up at the Swan, but he didn’t say anything about it. Now he thought maybe he should have mentioned that two-inch heels might not be the best choice for a cemetery with soft dirt. 

The unmarked graves had been placed in a lot at the corner of the cemetery. Mostly because that was the only place with room. The graveyard simply was not big enough to accommodate all of the bodies and markers. Nicholas had seen this problem coming and tried to mitigate it by having all the unidentified bodies cremated, but it was only a short-term solution to a long-term problem. 

The boy, Sean, had been buried, a simple cross serving as his marker. According to Nicholas’ calendar, he had been the very last body interred before they began cremating the remains. Even though the cross didn’t bear a name, Nicholas knew exactly where to stop. 

Charlotte knelt in front of the grave marker, reaching out to delicately touch the blue and purple flowers growing at its base. 

“Who planted these?” 

“I did.” 

She looked up, her surprise evident even though she wore sunglasses. “You did?” 

“Yes.” 

Charlotte looked around. There were flowers growing on each grave in this corner of the cemetery. “Did you do plant all these flowers?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“Because somebody needs to take care of these graves.” 

“Where’s Leah?” 

“She’s been cremated. We keep all the urns in a mausoleum.” 

“Oh. I’m sure you won’t mind if I take…her with me, will you?” 

“I’m sorry. You can’t.” 

Charlotte glanced up, and once again, Nicholas had the oddest sense that he was looking at a completely different face. She pushed herself to her feet and rounded on him. “Excuse me? I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and what you’re doing for this place, but you don’t get final say on the people buried here.” 

“I know,” Nicholas said calmly, undisturbed by her anger. “But you still can’t take Leah’s remains.” 

“Why the hell not?” 

“Because Sgt. Henry Hill from Liverpool is waiting for you at the gate.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Because he is going to place you under arrest and escort you back to Liverpool.” 

“You’re joking.” 

Nicholas gazed back at her with steady eyes until she flinched and looked away. 

“You can’t do this,” Charlotte said weakly. 

“I didn’t do anything, Charlotte, except look for your family. Which is just what you asked me to do.” 

“But they’re here.” She gestured at the other unmarked graves. “They’re here. You said so yourself. That Sean is buried here…and Leah is…You said it.” 

Nicholas nodded. “Your sister and nephew are here. Sgt. Butterman has spent the last two days searching files and records, looking for a match. But he didn’t find anything that would match the dental records of your husband or your parents, and he won’t, will he?” 

Charlotte folded her arms in front of her. “I have nothing to say to you. How dare you?” 

“Here’s what I think happened. Leah and Sean were not traveling with your parents. Leah had her own car. We found a car plate with her remains. I’ve run the numbers, and it is registered to her. I don’t know what happened to the car itself. Likely, Simon Skinner had his employees dispose of it. When the NWA learned that Sean had been breaking windows in the model village, they decided to target him and his mother.” Nicholas recited his theory in a flat, professional tone, as though he wasn’t reciting something beyond horrible. “I strongly suspect the NWA planted a note from Leah indicating she was leaving for home early. Most of the time, they passed off their murders as accidents, but sometimes, when an accident couldn’t be staged, they simply told the family that their missing loved ones had run away.” 

“Richard thought they had returned early,” Charlotte said, so softly he could barely hear her. “He…he called me and asked…and I told him I didn’t know. And he told me he was coming home early…” 

Nicholas nodded. “Which gave you enough time to prepare for their untimely arrival.” 

“No…no, it wasn’t like that.” She gripped her head with both hands. “It wasn’t, Inspector, I promise. It wasn’t.” 

“Late yesterday afternoon, the remains of three bodies were found in the crawl space beneath your home in Liverpool. According to the report from the coroner, the state of deterioration indicates they have been dead for approximately seven years.” 

“You don’t understand…” She began to fall forward, all the strength drained from her body. Nicholas reacted on instinct, putting his arms out to catch her before she took a header. She clung to his shoulders, leaning heavily against him. She looked up at him with swimming eyes. “I can’t go to prison.” 

“You should have thought about that seven years ago, Ms. Peoples.” 

“Can’t you….isn’t there anything…?” 

“Are you asking if I can do anything?” Nicholas forced her to straighten, but he didn’t immediately let her go. She still seemed weak on her legs. “There’s nothing. You’ve got to face the consequences of your actions.” 

“But I didn’t…I couldn’t. There was no time. It just happened. Haven’t you ever done anything…impulsively? Without thinking?” 

“No.” He forced her to straighten her shoulders. “But you can think about your choice now. I can drag you out of here and turn you over to Sgt. Hill, or you can walk out of here on your own two feet with some dignity.” 

Charlotte blinked. He could see the wheels turning in her mind before she took a step back. She ran a hand through her hair and nodded. “I can do that.” 

“Then do it.” 

He fell in step behind her, close enough to grab her if she tried to bolt. But he didn’t think she would make a run for it. There was no way she’d make it more than three steps, and she had to know it. He wished this story had a different ending. He wished whatever happened seven years earlier could be changed. They he could take it all back and give Charlotte, and her family, a second chance. 

“Inspector Angel,” Sgt. Hill greeted as they approached. 

“Sgt. Hill. This is Charlotte Peoples?” 

Sgt. Hill nodded and produced his cuffs. 

“Is that necessary?” Charlotte asked. 

“Yes,” Hill said, without pause. He the first bracelet closing around her wrist was surprisingly loud in the churchyard. “Charlotte Peoples, I’m arresting you on the suspicion of murder of Russell Hopkins, Miranda Hopkins, and Richard Lenmark.” 

Charlotte sent him another helpless, pleading look. Nicholas didn’t look away, his face remaining impassive. Hill helped her into the back of the car and slammed the door with a sense of finality. 

“Thank you for your help on this, Inspector.” 

“Just doing my job, Sergeant. Thanks for taking the time to come out here yourself.” 

“I know how busy you lot are down here. It was the least I can do.” 

“Have a safe journey.” 

Hill nodded. “I’ll be in contact.”

Nicholas watched the car slowly make it’s way through the village, not moving until it was out of his sight. 

“It was nice of you to let her say goodbye first,” Danny said, emerging from the church. 

Nicholas lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. It wasn’t a concession he’d normally make, but it had felt like the right thing to do. Somehow. He had known it as soon as Danny told him about the matching dental records. He should have marched over to her hotel and placed her under arrest as soon as he heard from Liverpool. But he had allowed her one more night. And this beautiful summer morning. 

“Danny?” 

“Yes?”   
“I’ve got a new envelope of seeds and my gardening pail in the back of the car. Would you mind helping me with them?” 

Danny immediately smiled, his eyes sparking to life. “Of course.” 

Danny waited for him while he fetched the pail from his car. Then they walked side by side, silently crossing the cemetery to the unmarked graves. Not all of them had flowers blossoming around the markers. He hadn’t had a chance to do anything with the newer ones. They looked oddly naked without purple, blue, pink, and white flowers. 

Nicholas knelt beside one and reached up to take Danny’s fingers, pulling him down to the soft ground to join him. 

“You just need to dig a little hole or trough like this…” Nicholas said, demonstrating with a small trowel. “Then you want to pour about this much into the palm of your hand…” He tilted the seed envelope, filling the center of his hand with twelve or so seeds. “Then we just sprinkle it into the dirt and cover it again.” 

“Where I should I dig?” 

“I’ve just been doing it around the base of the cross.” 

Danny nodded. “Got it.” 

“We’re going to begin searching Weaver’s farm tomorrow,” Nicholas said after several moments of silence. “We’ll start with the woods. The forensics team that helped up with the castle will be coming up from London.” 

Danny nodded again, his face set with concentration. 

“Thank you,” Nicholas said softly. 

“For what?” 

“For being here, Danny.” 

Danny sat back on his heels, absently resting his dirty hands on his thighs. He looked around the over-crowded cemetery, up at the recently repaired church room, and then back to Nicholas. 

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” 

Nicholas’ mouth pulled into an understanding smile. “I know what you mean.” 

_It’ll take some time to heal._

Nicholas had said it before, many times. But now he actually believed it. Believed they would be able to heal the deep wound that scarred the landscape, and scarred each one of them. 

He paused, his hand sneaking over to Danny’s, and he closed his fingers around Danny’s knuckles, squeezing him gently. Danny’s quick smile warmed him in a way the sun on his shoulders couldn’t. Nicholas returned his smile, before they both turned back to their task. 

**The End**


End file.
